Page 11 of For the Love of Art

Frankie perked up.

“Rocky’s?”

I patted his arm as Lianne, and I walked by. I opened the door, holding it for Lianne to walk through.

“We’ll see you there at eight,” I said.

Frankie nodded excitedly as I let the door close. He was still nodding as he locked it behind us and turned off the open sign. I let out a breath as I watched his girthy figure make its way to the back of the shop.

Lianne and I walked to my apartment. She talked animatedly the entire way. Also, through our dinner of Thai takeout. It even continued while we got ready for the opening. The only time I wasn’t listening to her excitement and thoughts on Nathan inviting me was when I did my hair and makeup in the bathroom. When I emerged, I thought Lianne was going to cry.

“Oh, Isla.” Lianne clutched her chest. “You look incredible.”

I did a little twirl.

“Do I look like I’ll fit in with a bunch of New York socialites?”

Lianne nodded, a grin splitting her face. I looked in my full length mirror. I pulled at the ruffled hem of the black dress, then at the lace top, which left a lot of skin visible on my chest.

“Is this too short?”

“It’s cut just above your knee, not just below your vagina.”

“It’s called the vulva. What about my boobs? Are they too… on display?”

Lianne shook her head. “Isla!” She reached out and grabbed my shoulders, shaking me. “You look gorgeous. Relax.”

Lianne turned me so I was facing the mirror. She popped one hip out and gave a flirtatious grin.

“No one would ever know that we’re approaching middle age.”

She winked at our reflection.

My knees collapsed, and I stumbled. I put my hands out, the brick wall of my apartment breaking my fall.

“Whoa,” Lianne said as she pulled me back to standing. “You alright there, little gazelle?”

“Thirty-five,” I said, breathy. “I’m thirty-five.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Lianne reached into my makeup bag and pulled out a tube of lipstick.

“But I’m starting over.” My eyes stung as tears filled them. “I’m thirty-five, single, and work in a cheese shop.”

“Again, same.”

“You own it.”

“It’s always felt more Frankie’s than mine. A lot of the time, I feel like I just work there.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “What am I doing with my life?”

Lianne pulled my hand down from my face and squeezed it. “Hey, stop. We’re still young. Maybe you’re starting over, but there are people who do it much later in life.”

I sighed, nodding. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

“Besides, even if we stay single the rest of our lives, I’ve heard old age homes are full of Viagra and very willing men.”